


Right Where You Left Me

by stardropdream



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Fake/Pretend Relationship, Getting Together, Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Love Confessions, M/M, Minor James Griffin/Keith (Voltron), Oblivious Keith (Voltron), Pining Shiro (Voltron), Post-Canon, Season 8 Doesn't Exist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-13
Updated: 2019-11-13
Packaged: 2021-01-30 04:14:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21422005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardropdream/pseuds/stardropdream
Summary: One year into peacetime, the war finally over, the Paladins helping to rebuild Earth, James Griffin slides into the spot across from Keith at the mess hall table and says, “Go to the Peace Ball with me.”Keith pauses, his fork halfway to his mouth. He takes his time chewing and then says, definitively, “Hell no.”Any bravado James had summoned for this moment immediately wilts. “Please? I need this.”Or: James asks Keith to be his fake date to trick his parents and Keith reluctantly agrees. Too bad nobody got around to telling Shiro it's fake.
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 190
Kudos: 866





	Right Where You Left Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CruelisnotMason](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CruelisnotMason/gifts).

> Gift Fic for [Cruel](https://twitter.com/CruelisB), who won my 1k follower giveaway on Twitter! Cruel requested a James/Keith fake dating with a pining Shiro. Thanks for being so patient on me writing this, oops. 
> 
> Note on the James/Keith tag: it's completely platonic (with perhaps a small crush hinted on James' end) and the end game for this fic is, of course, Shiro and Keith. Keith's just a oblivious potato. 
> 
> And thank you to [Kika](https://twitter.com/B1ackPa1adins) and [Kelsey](https://twitter.com/LionessNapping) who read this over for me!

One year into peacetime, the war finally over, the Paladins helping to rebuild Earth, James Griffin slides into the spot across from Keith at the mess hall table and says, “Go to the Peace Ball with me.”

Keith pauses, his fork halfway to his mouth. He takes his time chewing and then says, definitively, “Hell no.” 

Any bravado James had summoned for this moment immediately wilts. “Please? I need this.” 

Keith eyes him, eating his food. “You don’t like me or something, do you?” 

“_No_,” James says, although his cheeks are a little pink and Keith’s unsure if he believes him. James adopts a vaguely scandalized look as Keith continues to scrutinize. “I need a favor, okay?” 

“Explain,” Keith says, pointing at him with his fork, “or I’m going to think you’ve been secretly in love with me all this time.” 

James looks horrified, which Keith thinks he should take as an insult. He knows they’ve both been dicks to each other in the past, but they’ve since come to an almost-understanding. Pidge once joked with Keith that James obviously had a crush on him, but Keith hadn’t believed it at the time. Now he’s not so sure. 

“Okay, so, everyone’s families and parents are coming to the Peace Ball,” James says. 

Keith nods. He knows that much. He has a promise from his mom that she’ll try to make it if she can get through the Xo Quadrant in time. Keith’s not too fussed about whether she can or not— they’ll have plenty of time together once she gets here. And if she gets here after the Peace Ball, their visit will be more on their terms, anyway. Keith’s better at being patient now.

“And my parents are… concerned. They think I’m only focusing on my career and not other things,” James says, crossing his arms on the table and leaning forward a bit, staring at Keith. “So, I want you to be my date, so they’ll get off my back, at least a little. If they think I have a boyfriend, they’ll relax.” 

Keith snorts. “That’s the stupidest idea I’ve ever heard. Ask somebody else.” 

“I only know lesbians, okay?” James whines. “And none of us are interested in being each other’s beards.” Keith rolls his eyes but James presses, “You’re the only gay guy I know that I can ask.” 

“You could ask Shiro,” Keith shoots back and immediately regrets it because he doesn’t want to really think about Shiro dating anyone else, much less James on some harebrained misadventure to trick his parents. 

“Look, nothing against him, but he’s… he’s Captain Takashi Shirogane,” James protests, eyes wide with added emphasis. James punctuates this statement by wilting further, looking pale.

Keith shrugs. Shiro’s always just been Shiro to him. “So?” 

“So, you don’t go up to someone like that and ask him out like it’s nothing,” James protests.

“You’re not actually intimidated by him, are you?”

“Most normal people are,” James says, staring. “And if I had any other choice, I wouldn’t be asking you, either. Considering you two have your whole— thing.” 

“We don’t have a thing.” 

Now it’s James who rolls his eyes. “Listen, I know this idea is stupid but it’s all I’ve got. I don’t want my mom to always look so wounded when I talk about how my job’s going. She thinks I should have a family by now, especially after the whole ‘humanity was nearly wiped out’ thing. This will buy me some time until I _am_ ready to start dating.” 

“This is a really stupid idea,” Keith says again. 

James looks halfway to begging now. “Fine, okay. I’m asking ‘cause you’re the only gay guy I know _and_ you kinda get me.” 

And that much is true. Keith used to think James was an asshole. Now he knows he’s an asshole and also just socially awkward. Keith might relate to that much even if he’s not exactly eager to be friends with him. 

Keith finishes his meal, knowing that James is sweating over Keith’s lack of answer. Keith downs his drink and lets out a little sigh once he’s finished; Galra appetites can be insatiable. 

“Please?” James asks again, and does actually sound desperate and just the right amount of pathetic to appeal to Keith’s sense of decency. “I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.” 

“Ugh, fine,” Keith snaps, unsure why he’s agreeing but just wanting the conversation to end. “But you don’t get to kiss me and no extended touching.” 

“At least let me kiss you on the cheek if my mom’s looking,” James insists.

Keith wonders if it’s possible to roll his eyes too hard and cause permanent damage. “Ugh. Fine. Okay. Only once, though. And make it good.” 

“_Thank you_,” James says, looking instantly relieved and a little less like a downtrodden old dog. “You won’t regret this. You have no idea what this means to me.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Keith mutters, embarrassed by the blatant thankfulness. He’s not used to it, especially not from James. “Send me details and we can figure it out for this weekend.” 

-

Keith loves his daily lunch breaks with Shiro. It’s their little tradition now that the war’s over and it’s one that Keith always looks forward to. 

Once, Keith worried that being in love with Shiro would only be heartache and pain, knowing his love is unrequited. But in the end, it’s exactly as it’s always been for Keith. He doesn’t let himself long for what he doesn’t have when what he does have is so good. He’s happy to spend time with Shiro and that’s more than enough. 

Shiro missed yesterday’s lunch due to some back-to-back meetings, but today he’s scheduled an entire two-hour block just so he can spend it with Keith. It always makes Keith feel a little fuzzy inside, knowing that Shiro’s just as eager to spend time with Keith as Keith is with him. 

The war’s over and peacetime might still feel too weird— the concept of this weekend’s Peace Ball being one of those weird things— but at least being with Shiro is normal. It almost feels like before, years and years ago now. Only better. When Keith was a cadet at the Garrison, he’d constantly wondered why Shiro could possibly want to be friends with him. Now, Keith never doubts that Shiro values their friendship just as much as Keith does. 

Today, with the extra long lunch block, they’ve found themselves up on the roof of the Garrison. That, too, feels like old times. They sit on the edge of the roof, in the one spot where the surrounding fence doesn’t block off access, their legs hanging down and the sun baking against their backs. Everything feels warm and gentle, even if the landscape is much different from when they were home last.

And Shiro’s holding his hand. They’ve been doing that for the better part of a week now. Keith still remembers the first time Shiro reached out and grasped his hand. Keith accidentally dropped his coffee, letting it spill all over the table. 

Now, though, it’s just comfortable. They’re eating lunch and holding hands. It’s normal. 

“Hey,” Shiro says. “You know, I was thinking…” 

Keith hums, chewing on his burrito, his other hand tucked pleasantly against Shiro’s wide palm. 

“We should do this more,” Shiro says. “Not just lunch. I mean— we should go get dinner some time.” 

“Oh,” Keith says, thoughtfully. “Sure, Shiro. You know any good places?” 

Shiro squeezes his hand tight and smiles. He looks so much happier lately. Shiro promises, “I’ll find us something.” 

Life is good. As they wrap up their lunch break and head towards their next meeting, still holding hands as they descend the stairs, Keith turns his head to smile up at Shiro. 

Shiro’s already looking at him, his smile sweet and just a little shy. He looks like he wants to say something and Keith hums a little, prompting. 

“What’s up?” 

“Okay, so,” Shiro sighs, looking nervous before his mouth tilts up with a small smile. “Did you… I mean, do you want to go to the Peace Ball?” 

Keith laughs, turning the corner in the hallway and heading in deeper into the Garrison. “We’re required to go to the Peace Ball.” 

“I know, I meant— do you want to go together?” 

“Like, carpool or something?” Keith asks and shrugs. 

The Peace Ball’s being held at the new Town Center, in the Cultural Exchange building. It’s an easy walk from where the Paladins are all staying in the Atlas, and an even quicker ride in a car or hoverbike. Carpooling hardly seems necessary. Not that Keith’s opposed to driving there with Shiro; Shiro can drive and Keith can curl his arms around his middle, draping across his back, and make a night of it. 

Shiro’s smile is a tender thing, so sweet and cosmic. Everything about Shiro is cosmic. Keith could stare at him forever and never get bored of looking. “Something like that, Keith,” Shiro laughs, his cheeks a pretty pink color despite the harsh lighting in the Garrison hallways. He nudges Keith gently with his shoulder, eyes warm. “I want… I want to go with you, though.” 

“Yeah,” Keith breathes, his heart feeling all floaty. 

He can imagine a scenario in which he could pretend this is a date, link his arm with Shiro’s and lean against his shoulder for the whole evening, just luxuriating in being close to him. 

And then he flinches, remembering himself. “Ugh, wait. I can’t.” 

“You can’t?” Shiro asks, brow crinkled up in confusion. He looks so cute like that.

Keith sighs, letting go of Shiro’s hand and shoving his hands into his pockets. He goes for wry when he answers, “Got a hot date already.” 

Shiro stills, coming to a sudden halt. Keith steps a few more paces before he turns back, frowning at Shiro’s stunned expression. 

Keith snorts at his reaction to hide the way his heart feels overly tender. “Come on. It’s not so surprising, is it?” 

He means for it to be a tease, but something thrums in his chest— it can’t be so ridiculous to imagine dating Keith, can it? 

“No,” Shiro says, strangely quiet, his voice wooden. “Of course not. I just…” Shiro shakes his head. “Who— um, who are you going with?” 

“James Griffin,” Keith answers.

“I didn’t realize you two were close.” 

Keith shrugs, blushing. He meant to offer this entire situation like the joke it is, to explain James’ strange request from yesterday— but Shiro’s reaction isn’t what he expected at all. He suddenly wonders if maybe he’s said the wrong thing. 

“What, do you hate him or something?” 

“No,” Shiro says, shaking his head. “He’s a good pilot.” 

“Not as good as me, though,” Keith says before he can think better of it. 

Shiro’s mouth hints a smile, his eyes softening for a moment— looking more like himself. “Nobody’s as good as you, Keith.” 

Keith does _not_ preen at the praise, but it’s a near thing. He breathes in and back out again. 

“Anyway, it’s not—” Keith begins, but the door at the end of the hall slides open and Allura calls out to them. They’re late for the meeting. Keith would normally not care, would insist on talking with Shiro more. 

But Shiro’s the one who smiles at Keith, his smile not reaching his eyes, and nudges Keith gently in the shoulder. He doesn’t reach to take Keith’s hand again and, instead, shoves his flesh hand into his pocket, his Altean hand fisted at his side— too big for his pocket— as he starts walking again.

“Come on,” he tells Keith, glancing at him over his shoulder. “We shouldn’t keep everyone waiting.” 

“Right,” Keith says, following. He tries to joke, “Heaven forbid we keep anybody waiting for more than two seconds. Wait too long and people’ll move on. Or whatever.” 

“Ha,” Shiro breathes, without humor, and doesn’t look at Keith again for the rest of the meeting. 

-

Keith arranges to meet James just outside the CE building for the Peace Ball. Keith dresses up in his dress uniform, spending too much time fiddling with his hair— not thinking about looking good for James, but for Shiro. Shiro’s been busy the last couple of days; he’s had to bow out early from their lunch sessions twice in a row. This’ll be the first chance they get to really hang out this week. 

Keith sighs as he spots James outside, standing just beyond the circle of light cast out by the open doors leading into the main room. It’s a nice enough building— a recent build in the wake of the war, the welcoming center for incoming Coalition Citizens. There’s a big statue of a Human, an Olkari, a Galra, and an Altean standing together, hands linked, towering in the center of expansive, inter-planetary gardens. 

James practically pounces on him as soon as he spots him. “There you are! You’re late!”

Keith doesn’t want to admit that he’s late because he was fiddling with his hair like a lovestruck teenager. He glances over James’ shoulder, trying to peer into the building and see if Shiro’s there yet.

James gives him a withering look. “Okay. Remember. You’re _my _boyfriend tonight. Don’t _do_ that.” 

“Do what?” 

“Look around for the captain like some weird lost puppy,” James mutters.

Keith turns pink. “I don’t do that.” 

“Yeah, obviously. And he obviously doesn’t do it back,” James hisses darkly, more to himself than Keith. He sighs. “Okay, I don’t mean to be snappy. I just… I’m nervous. I’m still grateful. Thanks for doing this.” 

“Whatever,” Keith sighs and snatches up James’ hand. Hand-holding seems the way to go about this. “Your parents are inside?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Then let’s go,” Keith sighs, tugging James inside. 

-

It’s not the worst interaction Keith’s ever had. Keith figures the best way to describe James’ parents _is_ overbearing. Well-meaning and supportive, but a little overbearing. They fawn over James and want Keith to fawn over him, too. Keith does his best, but he’s never been great with words— and it’s not as if he has any experience dating in general. 

Keith’s eyes skitter across the room, looking for Shiro. Keith spots him on the other side of the room, speaking with Allura and Coran and an Olkari he doesn’t recognize. They’re laughing, and Shiro seems politely serene. 

James’ hand is weird and sweaty in his. It feels nothing like holding Shiro’s hand— warm, comforting, and all-encompassing. Shiro’s hand is always so big. Keith’s fingers always feel so slim, slipping between Shiro’s and holding. It feels good to hold Shiro’s hand. It is not so great holding James’. 

God. He really is being pathetic. He snaps his attention back to James and his parents, trying to gauge the trajectory of the conversation. Seems they’re talking about Kinkade’s newest experiments in the kitchen, which Keith really can’t care about. 

“Well,” James’ mother says, pleasantly, “we’ll give you two some time to mingle. You don’t need to babysit us all night.” 

Which would be all well and good— except James’ parents don’t leave them alone. Oh, they think they’re being subtle, but Keith trained with a thousand-years old spy organization and he _knows_ how to be subtle and sneaky and go unnoticed. James’ parents obviously do not. 

Even when James and Keith wander away, still holding hands, Keith can feel James’ mother lurking in the shadows, trying to listen in. Keith is eternally grateful for the mother he does have because he doesn’t know if he could ever handle a Krolia who acts like this. 

“I’ll get us drinks,” James says, a little overloud— obviously also aware of his mother hovering. Keith nods and watches him go. 

Which is, predictably, how Shiro finds him. It’s the one time this evening Keith hasn’t tried to keep tabs on him, so naturally he nearly sneaks up on him now. 

“Keith,” Shiro says, his voice deep and honeyed and music to Keith’s ears. Keith doesn’t startle, but he does turn around a little quickly to drink Shiro in. 

He’s in his dress uniform, too, holding a flute of champagne. It looks like he attempted to style his hair— his undercut’s freshly buzzed and he tried to slick back his bangs, although they’re doing more of a little swoopy thing, flirting back towards his forehead. He looks, of course, devastatingly and casually handsome. Keith loves him so much. 

“Hey, Shiro,” Keith says and can’t disguise the genuine happiness leeching into his voice. He hopes that James’ mother doesn’t hear the marked difference between how he speaks with her son versus the true love of Keith’s life. 

“Having fun?” Shiro asks and sips his champagne. His cheeks are a cute pink color, possibly from the alcohol. 

Keith shrugs, going for nonchalant. He takes a step closer, dipping into Shiro’s space. Although, for the first time in recent memory, Shiro seems to sway away— just a little, but Keith’s gotten good at reading Shiro. It shouldn’t hurt. 

“What about you?” Keith asks, keeping the sting from his voice. 

Shiro hums and sips his drink. “Eh. You know how I feel about diplomacy.” 

Keith laughs. “Yeah. Same. Give me a Galra fighter over this any day.” 

That rouses a laugh from Shiro, too, deep and rumbly and pulsing straight into Keith’s gut. God, he just wants to wrap himself around Shiro’s laugh and soak in it. 

“Saw you talking with Griffin’s parents,” Shiro says with a quiet casualness. “You seemed nervous.” 

Keith wonders if he was. Maybe nervous about his parents sniffing out the truth, or nervous about fucking it up and making things worse for James. He might not be close with the guy, but he doesn’t want to cause him more issues with his family. Family is important. 

Keith shrugs and Shiro asks, “First time meeting them?” 

“Yeah,” Keith says.

“That’s always terrifying,” Shiro murmurs, and laughs. “I think I nearly had a heart attack when I first met Krolia.” Keith’s about to tell him that’s not quite the same— meeting his best friend’s mom versus a boyfriend’s— when Shiro asks, quietly, “So… Is it— are things serious between you two?” 

Keith can feel James’ mother’s eyes burning at the back of his neck. She thinks she’s so stealthy but he’s so, so painfully aware of her hovering like a bat. He tries to broadcast the truth to Shiro through his eyes alone, hoping he’ll _understand_ that he really is so, so, so far from serious about James. 

“Oh yeah,” Keith says, casually, eyes wide. “I think so. It’s… you know. Good? Going good.” 

“Oh,” Shiro answers, sounding cut-off. Like he’s going to say something more. Instead, he smiles at Keith, soft at the edges, and says, “I’m really happy for you, Keith.” He claps his big hand on Keith’s shoulder and gives a gentle squeeze. “You deserve everything you could ever want, you know.” 

Keith can’t stop staring at Shiro’s smile. He thinks it’d fool anyone else— sweet, gentle, curving at the corners. But it doesn’t quite reach Shiro’s eyes and Keith’s far too used to seeing that directed towards others to have it ever work when directed at _him._

Shiro’s upset. Keith wonders if maybe Shiro does secretly hate James. 

“Shiro—” 

“And,” Shiro continues, voice painfully pleasant, “anybody would be lucky to be loved by you.” 

“I don’t love him,” Keith blurts out, then internally panics about the hovering mother behind him. He coughs. “I mean. It’s too early for that?” 

Shiro squeezes his shoulder one last time and then lets go. Keith feels a minor jolt of panic— feeling as if, maybe, Shiro’s never going to touch him again. It’s a stupid, irrational thought, but his heart gives a pathetic flip in his chest. He must make a sound because Shiro gives him a strange look. 

“Shiro,” Keith whispers, unable to put voice to the strange tumbling feelings inside him. He doesn’t know what it is about the vibe between them, but it’s been _off_ for days and he hates it. “I’m sorry,” Keith says. “I know you wanted to come here together, but—” 

“No,” Shiro interrupts, gentle but definitive. His grip on his glass is so tight that Keith’s surprised the stem hasn’t snapped beneath his fingers. “No, it’s fine, Keith. I understand.” 

He looks like he might say more but then James returns with the drinks, giving one to Keith. He loops his freed arm around Keith’s waist and, after pausing for just a breath, leans in and presses a kiss to Keith’s cheek— right over his scar. 

Shiro makes a sound. Keith hears it, soft though it is. 

“Oh, how sweet,” James’ mother says, materializing beside them and looking delighted. Keith casts a glance at her, startled to be surrounded so suddenly by so many people. 

“Sorry,” James whispers in a low murmur and does look apologetic. “She was looking tight-lipped. I didn’t want to while the captain was—” 

Keith glances away, hardly listening, seeking Shiro. But he isn’t standing in the group anymore. Keith casts his eyes around the room and spots Shiro as he weaves between people, making a quick exit out into the garden. 

-

About half an hour later, Keith keeps casting glances back towards the exit, hoping for Shiro to return. He doesn’t. 

“Would you please stop mooning over the Captain for two seconds?” James hisses under his breath. He doesn’t look angry, only vaguely terrified. Keith can’t blame him— his mother is hovering in the background, ready to pounce; Keith’s eternally grateful his mother is intimidating to others only in the old-fashioned mercenary way rather than the _my love and affection are potentially conditional_ kind of way. 

“I’m not mooning,” Keith snaps back. “I’m just— worried. He’s acting weird.” 

James rolls his eyes. “Mooning.” 

Maybe Keith is mooning. But that’s always been his way— so what if he can’t take his eyes off Shiro? So what if he always finds him in a room, no matter how far away he might be? So what if he always turns his head, seeking Shiro out when he hears him laughing or when Keith hears a funny joke himself, wanting to share? That’s just how they’ve always been. Keith looks and Shiro’s there— and when he’s not, Keith goes to find him. 

“I’m going to find him,” Keith announces, shrugging out of James’ hold. When James looks like he’s going to protest, Keith murmurs a quiet, “Sorry.” 

And then he books it out into the gardens. 

-

He half-expects he’ll need to go searching through the maze of a garden to find Shiro, but Shiro isn’t far at all. Just outside the grand doors is a little observation deck with stairs leading down into the gardens. Shiro’s on that deck, hands braced on the railing and staring up at the sky. 

The sky’s star-soaked tonight; it’s no wonder Shiro would be staring for so long. Keith gives himself a moment to merely observe him— the curve of his back as he looks up, the firm grip of his hands on the railing. There’s a slight desert night breeze licking into Shiro’s hair, dislodging his styling all the more. 

Even without seeing his face, all Keith can think is how handsome he is. How infinitely, beautifully perfect this man is. Keith could watch him forever. 

But Keith steps forward and asks, “Shiro?” 

“Keith!” Shiro says, startling. He whips around, tearing his eyes away from the sky and looking at Keith instead. “What are you doing out here?” 

“Looking for you.” 

He approaches him, crossing his arms over his chest. It’s not cold yet, the ground still sun-baked from the daylight hours and leeching that absorbed heat. But there’s the softest whisper of a desert winter incoming. In a few more weeks, the nights will be chilly. 

Keith doesn’t ease into the conversation. He’s always been one to dive right in: “You’ve been acting weird all week.”

“I’m— I’m sorry,” Shiro says, deflating. “I thought I— I thought it wasn’t obvious.”

“Maybe not to anybody else,” Keith agrees. “But me, Shiro? It’s me.”

Shiro breathes out, something splintering in his expression. He bows his head. Some of his white hair flips forward, shielding his eyes. 

“I’m sorry,” Shiro says. “I know I’m acting weird. I’m trying to be normal.” 

“I don’t want you to try anything,” Keith snaps. “I want you to tell me what’s wrong.” 

Shiro looks up at him, blinking. They meet each other’s gazes, just staring into one another’s eyes. It’s not the first time they’ve done this— sometimes, on the journey home to Earth, Shiro would simply stare into Keith’s eyes like this. Sometimes, during their daily lunch breaks, Keith will stop talking just so he can look at Shiro. 

He watches Shiro inhale slowly and then let it back out again in a long, slow sigh. “Okay,” Shiro breathes out, shoulders tense. “Okay, I… I need to talk to you about something and it’s— it’s awkward.” 

“Okay?” Keith prompts. 

“I’m sorry. I know I should let it wait, but, I…” Shiro turns back and grips the deck’s stone railing until his flesh hand goes white-knuckled. 

“Shiro,” Keith says. He steps into his space, lifting his hand to cover Shiro’s easily, ghosting his fingers along his knuckles. “What’s wrong? You know you can tell me anything.” 

Shiro looks down at him, something wounded in his expression. Keith wants to chase down whoever’s made Shiro act and feel this way and make them pay for it— and suspects it’s _him_. But he can’t fathom what it is that he’s done. 

Finally, Shiro bites his lip and then lets out a small sigh. “You told me you love me,” Shiro says, carefully. “During our— fight.” 

Keith goes still, eyes widening, his heart pounding. He wonders if this is finally the moment Shiro brings it up only to reject him. He’s been kind-hearted up until now, not acknowledging it explicitly, letting Keith be satisfied with their deep friendship. 

Keith tries to play back through his actions this week, what he’s done to finally push on the line they’ve drawn between their friendship. What he’s done to finally make Shiro sure of Keith’s feelings enough to reject them. 

Keith feels very small as, tentatively, he nods. “Yeah.” 

“Okay,” Shiro says, voice small, too. “And I thought… I’ve been—” His brow furrows and he closes his eyes, hissing out a breath. “Fuck. Nevermind. This isn’t the right time.” 

“Shiro—” 

Shiro rubs at his cheek absently. He looks like he’s about to start crying. “Anyway,” Shiro says. “I know I’ve been coming on pretty strong the last few weeks. I— you can tell me if I ever do something that makes you uncomfortable, right? I promise I won’t be insulted. I don’t— I don’t want to lose you, Keith.”

“You’re not going to lose me,” Keith answers, stubbornly, still having no idea what Shiro is even talking about. His heart is racing in his chest. “You’ll never lose me.” 

Shiro nods, still looking like he might cry. “Yeah.” 

They stand there in an awkward silence. Keith keeps waiting for Shiro to say more. He makes a soft sound when Shiro drags his hand off the balcony and, as a result, dislodges Keith’s hand from his. 

“Anyway,” Shiro says, voice soft. “Thanks for letting me down easy.” 

“Huh?” Keith asks, intelligently. 

“I mean,” Shiro continues. “It’s not going to be a problem, I promise. I’m— I’ll get over it. We’re still friends no matter what.” His eyes look so pleading when he adds, quietly, “Right?” 

“Shiro?” Keith asks, feeling like he’s missed something obvious. 

“Shit,” Shiro says, laughing, his smile looking a touched pained. “Just pointing that out makes it weird, doesn’t it?” He shakes his head. “I promise I’m not always going to be this weird about you having a boyfriend. I really am happy for you. I swear.” 

“What?” Keith asks, the gears in his head slowly grinding. His eyes widen a little as he stares at Shiro. “Shiro?” 

He’s incapable of saying anything else but monosyllables and Shiro’s name. He blinks owlishly up at him. 

Shiro sighs, scrubbing his hand over his face and back into his hair, shoving his bangs off his forehead. They flip forward again when Shiro’s hand hooks around the back of his neck, gripping nervously. 

_He thinks you rejected him,_ Keith’s mind helpfully supplies. The thought doesn’t make sense in any context. 

Keith’s the one who’s been pining endlessly. Keith’s the one who’s been waiting for rejection to come someday. 

_Thanks for letting me down easy._

Ice runs through Keith’s veins as the realization sets in. Why Shiro’s been acting strangely. Why Shiro’s been holding his hand. Why Shiro asked him to the Peace Ball in the first place. Why he’s looked like a wounded puppy this entire week— since learning about Keith’s _date_.

Keith might gasp. He isn’t sure. 

“Shiro!” 

Keith flings himself at Shiro, curling his arms around his shoulders and slamming his mouth against his. It’s an entirely graceless kiss and Keith knows it. Shiro gives a little gasp— more surprise and pain than any sort of pleasure— and stumbles back from the force of Keith’s sudden attack. 

They stumble so badly, tripping over each other’s feet, that Shiro must take a misstep on the stairs. They both go falling, crashing down the steps and over the gravel path into the garden. Thankfully, a wayward rose bush cushions their fall, but Shiro still shudders beneath Keith as he undoubtedly gets a backful of thorns. 

“Fuck,” Keith hisses, hands already reaching to hold Shiro. “Fuck, are you okay?” 

“Y- yeah,” Shiro says, sounding a bit stunned as he blinks up at Keith. There’s a rose petal in his hair. His eyes are big and wide as he stares up at Keith. 

“I do love you!” Keith practically shouts, which isn’t necessary considering how close to Shiro’s face he is. “I said it and I meant it! I love you! I love you so much I feel like I’m going to die half the time.” 

“Keith—” 

“I’m _in_ love with you,” Keith stresses, just to make himself absolutely clear. “I’ve been in love with you since I was sixteen and stupid. God, Shiro, don’t you know you’re everything to me?” 

“Keith—” 

“And I also—” 

Whatever Keith’s about to say next is cut off when Shiro lifts his hand, cups Keith’s cheek, and drags him in, silencing him with a kiss. It’s far softer than Keith’s attempt, Shiro’s mouth pliant and sweet against Keith’s. 

Keith burns inside out, clinging to Shiro tightly, giving one lone embarrassing trill before he ducks his head and kisses Shiro harder. 

“Ah, wait,” Shiro whispers, breaking the kiss, blinking up at him. “Griffin—” 

“_Fuck_ Griffin,” Keith snaps and cups Shiro’s face, kissing him harder. He doesn’t really mean it— this is hardly James’ fault— but aside from sending a silent hope that James’ parents don’t come wandering into the garden, Keith very decidedly stops thinking about anything but kissing Shiro. 

“Keith, seriously,” Shiro murmurs against his mouth, tipping back to breathe. “I don’t want—” 

“I’m not actually dating him,” Keith says in a rush. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you. I’m just doing him a favor 'cause his parents are… weird.” 

Shiro blinks up at him, processing the words. As he does, Keith leans back enough to help pull Shiro out of the rose bush, running his hands down Shiro’s back to dislodge any clandestine thorns. It might also just be so he can touch Shiro’s broad, muscular back. Once he’s sure he’s safe from pricks, Keith lifts a shaking hand to pluck rose petals from Shiro’s hair. 

“I—” Shiro turns pink but his smile this time is sweet, wide, and heartfelt. “I love you, too.” 

Keith’s hand stills and Shiro lifts his, catching Keith’s and threading their fingers together, something hopeful blooming in his eyes as he looks down at Keith. 

“Yeah?” Keith whispers. 

Shiro laughs, wet and a little hitching, and nods. “_Yeah_, Keith.”

Keith blinks back a wave of tears that threaten the backs of his eyes, relief and wonder and happiness all at once. He hiccups a little breath, nodding vigorously. 

And then he jumps into Shiro’s arms. This time, Shiro catches him, ducking down to meet his lips in a solid, all-consuming kiss. Keith forgets how to breathe for a good amount of time, and then loses track entirely of how much time passes in the garden with Shiro. 

If he thought he could never grow tired of being with Shiro, of simply looking at Shiro, it’s nothing compared to kissing Shiro. 

-

The next morning, their dress uniforms scattered across the floor of Shiro’s captain quarters, Shiro in Keith’s arms snoring softly, nose pressing into Keith’s chest, Keith glances at his waiting messages on his PADD. 

_Thanks a lot,_ James texts mid-morning. _My mom saw you and the captain last night and now she thinks Captain Shirogane is a homewrecker._

Keith snorts. Against his chest, Shiro gives a sleepy little murmur, shifting closer to Keith. Keith smiles down at him, indulgent and overfull with love, and presses a kiss to his forehead. 

_Just proof you need to focus more on your career instead of dating,_ Keith texts back, turns off his PADD, and leans down to kiss Shiro awake.

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject) (including the [LLF Comment Builder](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/commentbuilder)), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates responses, including:
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